Every reasonably successful opening ceremony has a point where you stop laughing at the overly earnest interpretive dancing and become completely engrossed. For this reviewer, that moment arrived early in Friday’s excessively long, predictably inconsistent, and dance-heavy yet still endearing event. (It was fortunate this didn’t occur past the three-hour point, as staying awake was a struggle by then.) An individual in an evening gown appeared, pursued by a swarm of paparazzi—a clever, succinct nod to La Dolce Vita, the iconic Italian film whose intrusive photographer character, Paparazzo, gave us the word. A maestro of spectacle, skill, and style (and a fan of lengthy runtimes), the film’s director could easily have been an inspiration for a ceremony that celebrated Italian art and culture in a determinedly non-digital way.

Directed by seasoned producer Marco Balich and broadcast live in the United States on NBC and Peacock (both networks re-aired it Friday night), the spectacle unfolded primarily for an audience of roughly 80,000 at Milan’s San Siro Stadium, with additional events held at satellite venues. The use of multiple locations—and, for the first time in Olympic history, twin cauldrons in and the mountain town of Cortina—was occasionally confusing, particularly as the Parade of Nations divided the athlete delegations. However, it largely served the ceremony’s proclaimed theme of armonia, or harmony. In an era of division, what could better symbolize a unifying world than literally weaving together several geographically distant events for a global audience to experience as a relatively unified presentation?

True to form for opening ceremonies, the acts balanced sophisticated art (poetry! opera!) with campy fun ripe for memes. Following an introductory video reminiscent of an Italian tourism advertisement (featuring mountains, cafes, and fashion icons), dancers in white and silver togas occupied the circular stage at San Siro to pay tribute to Italian sculptor Antonio Canova’s , a work that naturally draws from the Roman mythology integral to Italy’s history. The paparazzi sequence transitioned into an absurd—yet enjoyable!—skit with comically large masks of composers Rossini, Puccini, and Verdi. Enormous paint tubes descended from the ceiling, releasing vibrant flows of fabric. In a distinctly Fellini-esque moment, dozens of vividly costumed dancers represented classic Italian icons: Colosseums, espresso makers, and bakers with multi-tiered cakes. Headliner Mariah Carey, arguably the ultimate human blend of artistry and camp, soon emerged, draped in white feathers, to sing the Italian classic “Volare” (and, unsurprisingly, incorporate a segment of her own song “”). The late, great Milanese designer Giorgio Armani would probably have approved of a chic, minimalist homage that featured three lines of models parading through the stadium in monochrome Armani suits colored like the Italian flag.

The accumulation of acts and filler videos became tiresome. Was it necessary to include that clip of athletes, musicians, and laughing children riding trams through the city? Likely not. Or the animated segment showing the excellent Italian actress Sabrina Impacciatore (known in the U.S. for her roles in and ) traveling back in time via Olympic logos? Again, no, but the subsequent live-action sequence, which transported a confused Impacciatore forward through time past decades of hockey players in sweaters and neon-clad 80s skiers, was tremendously entertaining. The same cannot be said for the mandatory musical appeal for peace, a nebulous, solemn performance oddly interrupted by a quote from Nelson Mandela; in the current climate, a bland statement on world affairs can seem more tactless than silence. And to recall: roughly two and a half hours prior, there was hopeful speculation that the latest endless pre-Parade of Nations dance—the one that painstakingly built up to the raising of the Olympic rings—might be the final one. In reality, several more dances followed the segment involving Charlize.

What was appreciated about the rings segment, however, was how it encapsulated the ceremony’s understated, low-tech style. The iconic Olympic rings were enormous physical constructions illuminated by fireworks—an ancient form of technology. The and the technological rivalry that characterized this event earlier in the 2020s were not emphasized here. A more predictable approach would have been to enhance the ceremony with glossy, potentially sponsored uses of AI. Instead, Milan opted for a poignant tribute to the fundamental element shared by both the arts and sports: humanity.